


Summer

by ToxicPineapple



Series: platonic oumeno drabbles [3]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Abuse, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bittersweet Ending, Conversations, Depression, Developing Friendships, Friendship, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Introspection, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 02:21:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20685893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToxicPineapple/pseuds/ToxicPineapple
Summary: besides, what she really wants is the permanence of oblivion. she wants to experience infinity, a swirling nothingness where her soul can cease to be conscious as she swims through the darkness. she'd like that, she thinks, to leave everything behind and be empty and unknowing for all of eternity. but making that happen sounds like such a pain, so maybe she'll just try sleeping for now.---Himiko and Kokichi communicate about their depression through a series of notes on a desk, and then some more after that.





	Summer

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Suicidal ideation, suicide discussed at length, and some graphic imagery near the end. (Nobody commits suicide in this piece, Himiko just has a very visual imagination.)
> 
> https://ibpf.org/resource/list-international-suicide-hotlines
> 
> Don't read this if it triggers you.

himiko rests the side of her face on the desk, half-lidded red brown eyes gazing dully out the window to the unfinished puzzle of sky and tree just outside.

hypothetically, if himiko got to her feet right now and threw herself out the window, she'd crash into the tree before falling several stories to the ground. that is, if she's strong enough to break the glass with her own body. eighty six pounds isn't a lot. but maybe she could do it.

not that she would. forget being a disruption; so much as getting out of her seat now sounds like a pain. she turns her head a little to look at the teacher, who is rambling on in english. it's a language she's familiar with and that she speaks pretty well. she could understand what he's saying if she concentrated. but she doesn't want to. when she feels like this, numb like jelly, she's more content to close her eyes and let the harsh sounds of that language wash over her and melt her into the seat.

raw bitten fingernails drum soundlessly on the table and himiko watches them, blinking tiredly at the repetitive nature of the action. she feels so dull. it's almost time for lunch, and yeah her friends will be meeting up on the roof (they have different classes but they try to meet up for lunch) but she doesn't really wanna go.

tenko and maki are both awfully observant which means they're bound to notice how she's feeling today. if it were maki alone it wouldn't matter because maki is respectful and very quiet, but tenko has problems with boundaries, especially as far as himiko is concerned.

she really wishes that they weren't her only friends. then again, having other friends doesn't really appeal to her either, so much as oblivion does.

during lunch she dozes, thinks about her lunch, lovingly packed by her mother and sitting in her foot locker untouched. to be thrown in the garbage on the way home from school so her mom doesn't notice she's not eating, no doubt. himiko feels a twinge of guilt but ignores it in favour of pulling a pencil from her binder, tapping the eraser end on the desk.

she doodles a small bird on the corner of her paper and imagines it flying away. crashing into the high up windows on a large corporate building and falling smack dead on the concrete, the only reminder of its presence a red smear on the glass.

himiko sort of wishes she could be a bird.

without thinking about it too much, himiko uses her pencil and writes on the table instead of her paper. it isn't much, and it doesn't matter since no one else uses this desk but her, but she writes the words _i wish i could die _and the tip of her pencil breaks on the end of the e because she's pressing down so hard.

the next morning himiko comes to school in a daze, dumps her bag by her seat and slumps down against the desk. the first hints of summer are in the air and she doesn't mind, she's actually a fairly cold person most of the time so she likes the warmer weather and the multitude of fresh and sweet smells the season brings on, but for some reason every sunny day is tinged darker with melancholy. recently the songs elementary students sing on their way to school are of emptiness and sorrow rather than freedom or joy.

but maybe that's just himiko, forgetting what they feel like.

himiko wonders what this is, the sudden strong desire to stop existing. if it has a name. and if it does have a name, would she like to call it that? she supposes it doesn't make a difference, because, even if it had a name, and even if she knew what it was, she'd still be feeling it all the same.

(tenko tried to talk to her this morning, she asked is himiko okay, she missed lunch yesterday, does she need help with any classes, and himiko just kind of... kept walking. now the guilt sits in her stomach like a large mass of plastic, swirling and melting and poisoning everything but never returning to the world.)

her cheek gets numb from staying against the table for so long and her neck aches from the position so she turns her head and shoves her arms underneath her face as a cushion, staring at the table. her eyes float to the place where she wrote on the table yesterday, as there's no reason for it not to be there.

and it's still there, but beneath it, someone wrote something.

_me too._

she's pretty sure she'd remember seeing someone come over and write that. is this a joke? her brows knit together and she presses her lips into a line to keep from frowning, staring daggers into the far wall.

the girl who sits next to her, chiaki is her name, casually asks if she's okay. himiko shrugs her shoulders, but she's wondering something, so she ends up speaking.

"does anyone else use this classroom for any reason?" she asks (casually too), angling her body so her arms cover the now-smudged lines of pencil from yesterday.

"yeah, detention is held in here." chiaki says. "i think."

like a puppet, himiko bobs her head up and down and wants to say more, thanks or something, but the ability to communicate properly is stripped from her so she just makes an expression that might be a smile until chiaki turns away. she sleeps in class a lot. she doesn't seem to be particularly sleep deprived, just narcoleptic. himiko thinks she might try it sometime.

sleeping in class, that is. not narcolepsy. she doesn't think narcolepsy is something you can just try.

besides, what she really wants is the permanence of oblivion. she wants to experience infinity, a swirling nothingness where her soul can cease to be conscious as she swims through the darkness. she'd like that, she thinks, to leave everything behind and be empty and unknowing for all of eternity. but making that happen sounds like such a pain, so maybe she'll just try sleeping for now.

lunch rolls around again and like before himiko stays planted in her seat. she's curious about the writing on the table again. whoever replied to her has messy handwriting but it's still legible. leans right, so they must be left handed. himiko chews her lower lip. they didn't press down on the desk as hard as she did. it must've been more of a joke, for them. an afterthought.

still, something compels her to write again.

_i don't think anyone would miss me anyway. it just sounds like a lot of work and i don't know if i'm willing to do it._

it rains that day and himiko doesn't have a coat so she trudges home in her sweater instead, shivering despite the fact that it's more of a warm summer shower than the icy cold downpour she had to endure during the winter.

the next day her fever is high so her mom makes her stay home, and himiko doesn't really mind. she stays under the blankets in a cocoon of her own body heat, blinking at a spot on the wall opposite her bed and wondering if death would be anything like being sick.

if it meant an end to everything else, himiko supposes she wouldn't really mind that.

the next day she goes to school even though she still feels feverish. she goes extra early to avoid tenko and feels bad about it, wishes she could just pretend she's feeling okay, but tenko can see right through her and it's honestly easier to just avoid her than try to lie about it.

as soon as himiko comes in she sees that whoever wrote on the desk before has written there again. the previous messages have been erased, likely to make room for this one, but there's a response nonetheless.

_yeah, taking real action sounds totally lame when i could just fantasise about getting hit by a semi-truck all the time. i'd probably rather it be more painless than that, though. i'm a bit of a coward, y'know? at least when it comes to pain._

himiko thoughtlessly brushes away a couple leftover eraser shavings from the desk. whoever wrote the last message was in detention again two days ago, if they were able to respond. she wonders why that is.

this time, she thinks a bit harder on her response and writes something during history.

_is it weird that i don't think i'd mind the pain so much? i mean, i guess it would be unpleasant in the moment, but they're all still constructs, right? and if death means an end to all the pain, then, i'm willing to take a lot of it before i get none of it._

the rest of the day goes by in a blur, and the next morning when she comes to school she sees that there's something else written on the desk, but it's short.

_notebook._

a bit confused, himiko glances inside her actual desk at all the notebooks she keeps in there. on the top of her pile is her english notebook, which she honestly hasn't touched in months, so she drags it out and opens it. the book falls open to the most recently used page, which is a lot more creased than she'd usually try to go for, but after a long moment it becomes obvious to her why that is.

_sorry, i was worried about vandalising the desk because i'm already in detention and as much as i wanna die i don't wanna be killed by the detention teacher because that's stupid._

himiko can't help smiling a little.

_are jokes okay? i figure you're probably about as okay as i am since you wrote suicidal stuff on the desk _ _but it's _ _kinda a coping mechanism for me and i don't want to make you uncomfortable._

since she's supposed to use this notebook for school work, himiko is a little wary of writing in it- she's surprised and a little amused that whoever she's been communicating with the past couple days is okay with just writing in her notebook like that- but she decides after a moment that it doesn't matter.

the trivialities of school work and the human idea of "success" in this weird, selfish world that himiko has always lived in are starting to lose their value to her. education is boring, meaningless, empty. grades and test scores are nothing more than letters on paper, friendships are nothing more than false promises exchanged by liars, continuing on in this way is just pretending that everyone isn't gonna die anyway and it's not all meaningless.

in short, she doesn't care much about her school work.

she writes,

_i'm not clever enough to be funny or else i'd do the same thing. why are you in detention, can i ask? is that okay?_

it's a personal question but seeing as they both already disclosed that they're suicidal, himiko doesn't care much for formalities. and they don't either, it seems, because the next day they give her an answer rather than offense.

_i killed half the associated student body :)_

himiko is pretty sure that's a joke but they haven't written anything else so she decides to just go along with it.

_ouch. how many pink slips is that?_

the messages start to blur together with the days, and himiko stops remember much about her day-to-day life beyond writing notes to this anonymous person in detention.

_enough to fill the whole wall in my room. my parents are very proud of me._

as she contemplates a reply to that one the corner of her lip twitches. she usually tries not to be sarcastic or cynical or even express her feelings of disconnection from her parents but for some reason she feels compelled to with this person. she doesn't even know their name, or how old they are, or what pronouns they use, but... in a way, that's almost better.

_mm. i see. note to self: if i want my parents to be proud of me for once, commit murder._

_ohh i feel bad now. if it's any consolation that was a lie, and i don't have parents._

she figured it was a lie that their parents would be proud of them for getting detention for a long time, but she hadn't realised that they'd lie about something like that. for a person who claims to be a coward when it comes to pain, they don't seem to be afraid of it. but maybe that's just how they deal with their pain, by joking about it.

_really?_

she can't think to write anything else.

_yeah. died when i was little, i guess. i don't remember them so you don't need to feel bad about it._

_it's not as easy as not having to feel bad about it. i think i will whether or not you give me permission to._

_that's fair. i think that's also why i wanna die._

himiko pauses when she sees them writing that. the sun is shining outside, bright enough to turn everything green through the leaves that crisscross outside the window, and now everything smells like dew in the morning, sweet and friendly and familiar. summer time is like a hug, a relief, a breath of fresh air.

rather, it was.

_i wish i could feel something. i mean, i know i said something about feeling bad yesterday and i do but i wish i could feel something more substantial. i'd take pain or anger over this in a heartbeat. i hate feeling tired and empty and sad all the time._

_me, too. y'know, anger and pain and fear fuel epeople to do things. like, cool things. i've always wanted to do cool things. but i'm too depressed for it, i think._

_is that why i can't kill myself? because i'm too depressed for it?_

_you tell me, yumeno._

and himiko is reminded that they obviously know who she is- her name is all over her notebooks, and this is her desk, not anyone else's... so they know who she is but she doesn't know who they are. it hardly seems fair, but in a way it's nice to know that they still keep talking to her even knowing who she is.

_so, do i get to know your name too?_

_does it matter what my name is?_

_not really, i guess. it doesn't change _ _anything. just gives me a name to the only person i've been interacting with for the past eight or nine days._

_yikes. that bad, huh?_

_is it different for you?_

_i didn't say that... it just surprises me when other people are experiencing similar pains to me, i guess. i deal with them in a different way, though._

_how do you deal with them?_

_i'm more hostile? i lie. a lot. and i'm mean to people. i pick at their insecurities and cause trouble. that's why i'm in detention every day. that, and, the more i'm in detention, the less time i'm with my foster family, and that means the less time they have to hit me._

_i'm sorry._

himiko rests her chin on the desk after writing that and flutters her eyes shut. she doesn't even wake up for lunch, to eat- though when the day is over chiaki puts a hand on her shoulder and she gets up to leave. she wants to thank the girl but by the time she cracks open her dry lips chiaki is already gone.

maybe it's for the better. her voice probably doesn't even work anymore.

_it's okay. i regret writing that now._

_don't, i'm just, sorry. it feels stupid being so sad about my own problems when you're going through so much. this school is dumb. adults are dumb. they don't bother paying any attention to kids who are acting out before labelling _ _them as troubled or whatever. saying they need attention._

_i think i do need attention. i mean, that's why i do it, in a way. i try to push people away but that doesn't mean i don't wish that they'd reach out to me anyway._

_would it make things better if they did reach out to you?_

_maybe. i'd still want to die, though._

_me, too._

"you write in that notebook a lot." comments chiaki, glancing over at himiko, and himiko wonders it that's really the truth. she only writes in it once a day, to respond to her friend in detention. (friend.) "we're not doing english right now, are you catching up on assignments?"

himiko hesitates, then shakes her head. no point lying.

"oh. well, that's fine. i'm sure you're doing okay." chiaki smiles, and himiko awkwardly stumbles trying to do the same.

(she's not doing okay, says the big red fifteen on her last quiz, and the twenty before that and the fourteen before that one and the twenty five before that. she doesn't know anything they've been talking about recently. it's a sharp contrast from the ninety eights and the one hundreds she used to get on those quizzes. there's something satisfying about bad grades though, in a masochistic sort of way. it's a proper fuel to burn in hating herself, an excuse to feel ashamed. himiko thinks that next time, she won't write anything at all, just her name, and the date.)

_so, why do you wanna die?_

_you're gonna ask that without telling me your name?_

_are you really not gonna tell me?_

himiko snorts quietly to herself and notices it doesn't make any sound.

_no real reason, i guess. it's just like, you know when you're swimming and you're having fun and everything is great? the water is comfortable and everyone is laughing and you're going faster than ever? but then you stop for a minute and rest and treading water just keeps getting harder and harder and you're tired but you're out a lot deeper than you thought you were and everyone is going further than you, out into the depths of the sea, while you struggle in six foot deep water, your feet unable to skim the sand beneath you, and the lifeguard isn't paying attention and hypothetically you could call out and ask for help but you'd feel so lame doing it so you just don't, you keep treading water, bur you're so tired and you wish you could give up and just sink?_

_yeah. it's exactly like that._

_that's why, i guess. i don't think i'm even afraid of drowning anymore._

_they want you to be._

_who?_

_the adults. teachers. people in power. they want you to be afraid of drowning. you're easier to control that way. if you wanna keep swimming. if you just give up on everything? they can't make you do anything._

_is that why they put you in detention every day?_

_i guess so._

_is it more brave to give up and drown or to keep swimming?_

himiko's teacher asks to meet her after class and discuss her grades. she goes, because of course she does, she has no choice. he tells her he's worried about her, says that she's unresponsive in class and does terribly on quizzes now. he tells her he's there if she wants to talk. he tells her she might want to look into doing summer school. he tells her that unless she responds or says anything at all he'll have to call her parents.

she doesn't say anything, so he calls them, and when himiko gets home, her mother looks at her like she doesn't even know what to say.

himiko wonders, _is this what it'll be like at my funeral?_

tenko finally catches her on her way to class the next day, confronts her about what's been going on, and where she's been. maki is there too, and she tries to feign disinterest but her red eyes are guarded like they are whenever she's worried or upset. himiko hates to think she's upset her friends, but listening to tenko talk like that she thinks they aren't really her friends anymore.

"what's going on, himiko? you know you can talk to me, right?"

no, himiko wants to say, but she doesn't. when tenko lets go of her shoulders, she just turns and walks away to her class, hearing the pained silence of her best friends play on endless loop in her ears.

_i don't know. i think brave is a pretty stupid thing to strive for._

_i've been thinking a lot about stupid things recently. would you try to stop me if i said i was gonna kill myself?_

_i would ask why now, probably._

_would you accept the answer, because everyone is disappointed in me and i can't take it anymore?_

_yeah, i mean, that's as good an answer as any, but you're wrong though._

_how?_

_i'm not disappointed in you._

himiko's eyes smart when she sees that; she buries her face in her arms and closes her notebook, trying to calm herself so there aren't tears on the page. she doesn't want her friend to see that she was crying.

even if the earnestness of the declaration catches her off guard.

she doesn't reply to that message, because she doesn't know what to say, but they write something else the next day anyway.

_i've never been honest with a person like i have with you, y'know. it's kind of weird. i don't mind it so much. maybe because it's over writing. but maybe just because we're in similar positions. i dunno. i don't think you'd like me very much if i knew you in person. i think that's why i haven't told you my name yet._

_do you really think i wouldn't like you?_

she doesn't mean to sound incredulous, she's just, surprised, is all.

_i don't know. i tend to think most people wouldn't like me. most people don't tend to like me._

_most_ _ people are dumb._

_most people are smart. they don't like being jerked around. i jerk people around reflexively. it's pretty terrible. no one knows what to do with me._

that makes her sad somehow.

_i don't think it's a matter of doing something with you so much as it is of talking to you more. do people do that? try to talk to you?_

_sometimes. but not in a real way. just to make themselves feel good. at the end of the day, they still wouldn't care if i killed myself. no one would care._

_that's wrong, though._

_oh, fuck you._

_i would care._

they don't write anything that day, or the next one. himiko moves sluggishly through those days, wondering if she said something wrong. is it weird to care about someone she doesn't even know? they've never even spoken face to face. she doesn't know their name, or who they are, or anything about them.

the day after that, they do write something.

_detention is pretty boring._

_is that not the point of detention?_

_yeah, but humour me _ _for a second. everyone here hates me. and i don't exactly like them either. i wish it could be less boring._

_hmm._

_hmm? :)_

himiko can't help laughing a little bit at the page, because she knows what they're insinuating. and to be honest...

she gets to her feet and picks up a textbook off her desk, walking over to the window that she's been fantasising about jumping out of so much as of late. as she heaves it out, she imagines herself as the heavy book, shattering the glass and breaking branches as it falls down and slams down on the ground. she imagines her bones cracking against the tree and pieces of glass piercing her skin and her neck breaking when she hits the concrete. she imagines leaving her body and floating away into the unknown, into the oblivion, into eternity.

himiko feels herself smile, but not because the mental image pleases her.

there's nobody outside, nobody gets hurt by the textbook falling, but now there's glass everywhere and all sorts of eyes are on her.

"oops," himiko says, for the first time in almost forty days.

she's never actually seen a pink slip before. this stays the same, because instead of giving her a paper, her teacher sends her to the headmaster, who is extremely concerned. he tells her that her behaviour lines up with kids who have depression, and that his daughter had depression and that she should reach out if she needs help, but after a moment he seems to realise that she's not hearing him, because he just sighs and tells her that for damaging the school property he's going to put her in detention.

which works out for her, because as chiaki said, detention is in her classroom. she just goes back to class when the headmaster tells her to and takes her seat. she feels impervious to all the eyes on her, all the comments. a bit like a phoenix, rising from its ashes, but something less beautiful than that.

more like a hermit crab, shedding its old home and finding a new one. coming into her own. she feels invincible. the sun outside still tastes bitter like grapefruit and the songs elementary school students sing still sound like sadness and despair and the broken glass of that window still has a weird allure but himiko isn't thinking about any of that.

class is dismissed but chiaki lingers.

"you have detention, right?" himiko nods her head. "well, it might not be something you're interested in but my girlfriend got these coupons to a new ice cream place near the school and we're gonna check it out with some friends after school tomorrow. you should come." she pauses. "if you want to, that is."

himiko hesitates, then quietly says, "i'll consider it."

"okay. awesome." chiaki smiles, and it's soft like a blanket, and himiko thinks about tenko's smiles, and maki's smiles, and how she'd like to see them. "see you tomorrow."

and then she's gone, and the room empties, only for people to show up again. a tall guy from tenko's class, kaito, is the first person to show, and he acknowledges himiko, still seated in her desk, but he takes a seat near the front of the room. a boy with wild white hair and a green jacket sits near kaito, and he's eventually (begrudgingly) joined by a brunette with a water bottle full of orange juice.

a few more people come, and himiko doesn't recognise them, and then the door opens and closes another time, and she looks up, and immediately meets a pair of amethyst eyes. they're focused on her seat before they're focused on her but the eye contact is long and drawn out and awkward.

"kokichi, you're late," the teacher remarks sternly.

"huh? i thought i was early!" the boy with the amethyst eyes protests, and himiko smiles into a hand, recognising his sarcasm without needing to think about it.

"cut the crap, ouma." groans kaito. "what were you off doing, anyway?"

"uhh, last i checked, this is detention, not group therapy." the boy, kokichi perhaps, saunters over and places himself in the seat next to himiko, and he grins at her, and she _knows. _"but if you must know, i was torturing a kid for information."

"did they spill?" himiko asks, very quietly. kokichi meets her gaze and his eyes light up, and then dim down, like he's serious, only to spark again. his mask on and off in a matter of seconds. she half wishes she could hug him. "or was it a waste of your time?"

"yumeno, don't encourage him!" kaito exclaims.

"definitely a waste." kokichi rolls his eyes. "i had _such _better things to be doing here, y'know?"

the teacher sighs, and kaito groans, and kokichi lets out a horse-like laugh, but himiko thinks he's being genuine anyway. the group falls silent eventually, save for the sounds of pencils on paper, and himiko casually pulls out her notebook, opening it to the most recent page.

shakily, she writes,

_bored now?_

and kokichi reaches over to write underneath like he's always done, his hand brushing hers on the way.

_a bit, but i think that can be changed._

(as she and kokichi get on the bus together and her phone buzzes with a text from maki, himiko realises something strange, and wonders how exactly to tell the world around her that she wants to live. it feels important, somehow.)

**Author's Note:**

> another no caps platonic Oumeno in the middle of the night? wow
> 
> they're my comfort friendship and I'm having a rough week ok
> 
> bdhdhdgsjdn also I got the idea for people communicating via desk and I was like...... what if it was Kokichi and Himiko
> 
> by the way after this fic Himiko talks to her teacher, gets a therapist + anti-depressants, fixes her relationship with Maki and Tenko, and goes to summer school. I'm pro therapy and I also believe that it's acceptable to be "afraid of drowning" as Kokichi put it
> 
> I'm mad that AO3 doesn't have suicidal ideation as a tag. do I really have to get on my laptop to use a fucking tag. smh.
> 
> okay bye


End file.
